Going home was a mistake as Cambodian stairs are rather unforgiving (including a big step to hurdle over to get into the bathroom). So the next evening, when I had my next appointment at the hospital I was quite ready to check back in.
My doctor started to change the dressing of my foot, but when he touched my ankle I was quickly taken into x-rays. The verdict….I had a displaced lateral malleolus fracture. That’s the boney part of the ankle that you see on the outside of the ankle. It is a very common ankle fracture and usually is caused by rolling the ankle while a heavy weight is on it…well that adequately describes my accident from Sunday.
The orthopedic surgeon arrived later, had another look at the x-ray and gave the news I didn’t want to hear…my ankle required surgery. I decided to wait until the next day to get a second opinion, but was met with the same news. So off to surgery I was to go.
My hands went cold, I was so nerves but I tried to retain a sense of peace and not allow this to get me down. I had amazing staff at the hospital that were attempting to comfort me, answer any of my questions and just being a warm blessing to me in my time of need. The doctor was kind, letting me know that everything would be ok and would clearly explain what would happen.
I also felt comforted by God, believing that He had this situation under control, was healing my ankle and had a plan through all of this. All I needed to do was trust Him! Trust…this seems to be a reoccurring theme recently for me.
I awoke from surgery with a giant pink cast (it was a lot of padding and pink bandage) and a lot of pain. They took me back to x-rays to give me a glance at my plate and 7 screws.
A picture of my elephant foot after my operation.
It was then back to my room for my 6 days in hospital, with lots of medication to assist with the pain and multiple banadge changes to check my stitches and regularly clean the deep abration to the bottom of my foot. At times my foot felt like it was in a pot of boiling water, with all the bruising on it, so a majority of the time I was confined to my bed.
My hospital stay was filled with its own challenges, but I had strong determination to remain positive and to get through this. Friends have been amazing, creating an awesome community around me and blessing me in multiple ways. School found someone who was willing to substitute for me for my first 4-week recovery period. The staff at the hospital were so kind and a joy to be served by. Plus two friends offered me accommodation so I can avoid the scary steps at my own place.
So I am continuing on, one day at a time, with a fresh resolve each day to carry on, do what I can, receive the help I’m offered but also challenging myself to attempt to do more things on my own. Recovery is slow with four weeks completely off my foot, but I can do it…one step at a time.
